Half Empty, Half Full
by 567random
Summary: It's always been Fred and George, George and Fred.It's never been just George. He felt so alone now, his other half was gone. He would always be half empty, half full. He would never be complete again, and that hurt, it hurt so much. She knew they would've wanted to know about her, to remember every moment they had with her. And she took that away from them. It was all her fault.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, I probably shouldn't be posting this as I have my other stories that I should probably be working on, but, I couldn't help it. :) Soooo, I hope you all enjoy this, and tell me what you think, whether I should continue it or not! And be honest, don't be afraid to be mean if need be! Well, enjoy! :D**

It's always been Fred and George, George and Fred. It's never been just George. _Just_ George. He hated the thought. He felt so alone now, his other half was gone. He would never pull another prank with him, or tell another joke. He would never have those late night heartfelt talks anymore, or talk about girls with him. He would always be half empty, half full. He would never be complete again, and that hurt, it hurt _so_ much.

Growing up without parents is awful; you never get to know what they're like, or if you're anything like them. You would never really know what a parents love felt like, even if other people tried to fill their shoes. Some people though, would argue that growing up with your parents, then losing them when you're still young is worse. You would've had the chance to get to know them, yes, but then you lose them, and sometimes it's so sudden that you don't even realize it's happened. And then you start to think. You think of all the time you had with them, and all you can wonder is, what if I could have done something different? I could have been less of a child, listened to them when they told you to do something, never argued with them. And then you start to feel regret. So much regret you don't know what to do with yourself. This is exactly what Hermione Granger felt when she found out her parents were killed by Death Eaters. She tried so hard to protect them. She made them forget about her. They had died not even knowing they had a child. She knew they would've wanted to know about her, to remember every single moment they had with her. And she took that away from them, they would never get it back, and it was all her fault.

It was the 23rd of July when it all started. It was a particularly hot day for Brittan, and so most people were outside enjoying it. Hermione Granger sat next to her favourite tree by the lake at the Burrow, reading her favourite book, _Hogwarts, A History._ She couldn't help but think as she read it that a new one ought to be published, as so much has happened since the last one was made. She flipped through the pages, but eventually she stopped reading. She was just staring at the pages now, and tears began to fall from her eyes. She stood up and ran to the Burrow to the room she shared with Ginny. She started to throw her things into her beaded bag. The Burrow had been her home ever since the end of the war, but now she needed to leave. She needed to go to her home.

When she finished packing, she went to the bathroom to fix herself up. She would have to say goodbye to everyone, and she didn't want them to see she was crying. She made the mistake of leaving the door open, and as she was wiping her eyes, George appeared in the doorway.

"Granger? Are you alright?" He asked, his voice scratchy. Ever since Fred died, he hasn't really spoken to anyone, and Hermione could understand why. She nodded and turned away from him.

He sighed and came up behind her and turned her around. "No, you're not. Come with me, I want to show you something." Curios, Hermione followed him to his room. He pulled out a piece of parchment and look down at it for a moment. After a while he looked up at her. "Do you know what this is?" He asked. She shook her head. "It was mine and...mine and F-Fred's bucket list. We only had two things left on it; want to know what they were?" To say Hermione was shocked was to say the least. She had no idea why he wanted to show this to her. She nodded anyway though, because she felt he would tell her anyways.

"Number 99: Make Hermione Granger laugh and/or approve of a prank. Number 100: Marry the women of our dreams. So Granger, you better cheer up if I have any hope of fulfilling this list, or most of it anyways."

"What do you mean most of it? Do you not think you'll get married?" She asked him, surprised. He could really have any girl he wanted, and she was sure there was someone out there that could help him heal from his pain over Fred's death.

George shrugged. "I could, but I wouldn't want anyone to have to deal with me, I'll never be the same, and if I married someone, I wouldn't be able to treat them right."

Hermione shook you head. "I'm sure that's not true, and that whoever marries you will be there for you no matter what George, you just have to let them in." He sighed. "Let's just please not talk about that right now please. Let's talk about number 99, shall we? I'll need your help to know if I have any hope of making you laugh, you know." Hermione smiled.

"George, you don't need me for that. I've already approved of one of your pranks, believe it or not." George look at her for a while, thinking. He then shook his head, apparently not knowing when she would have approved of a prank.

"Well," she started, "it was when I was in fifth year. When you and Fred made your grand exit, but I'm pretty sure everyone besides Umbridge approved of that." She smiled up at him, to see he was actually smiling.

"Yeah, that was pretty great eh?" George looked over at her to see her eyes were still red, so he went and sat on his bed and patted the seat next to him. She sat down beside him, and looked up at him.

"What's wrong Hermione?" He asked softly. His eyes were filled with concern, as he turned to fully face her.

She bit her lip as tears started to well up again. "I'm an orphan now George, I have no more family." She started to cry, putting her head in her hands. George wrapped his arms around her, not knowing what to say. He had thought, as did the rest of the family, that her parents were still in Australia, and the Aurors were still looking for them. She never told anyone that they found them three weeks ago, the house they were staying in completely destroyed. She got up off the bed, out of George's arms. "I have to go. I'm going back to my house. Please tell your family I'm just talking to Kingsley about the search for my parents. I don't want them to know just yet." She was about to leave, but George grabbed her arm. "What?" She asked, wiping her eyes.

"I just wanted to let you know that while your parents might be gone, you still have us." He gave her a small smile, watching her slowly nod and walk away.

George walked down to the kitchen, to see his mum making supper. "Mum," he called.

She turned around, startled to hear his voice. Debating whether or not to tell her the truth, he took a few steps closer and grabbed an apple. "Hermione is gone to talk to Kingsley. She wanted me to tell you." He took a bit of the apple and studied her face. She looked shocked, but she nodded. "Of course dear, I'm surprised she didn't go sooner! When will she be back, did she say?" She asked, going back to cooking.

"No." He replied and left the kitchen to go outside. He kept walking past everyone, and when someone called out to ask where he was going, he simply replied his shop. Once he got to the apparition point, he dissaparated to Hermione's house. He had been there once before, when he, Fred and his father went to pick her up one summer to bring her to the Burrow.

He walked inside, calling out to Hermione. When he received no answer, he walked upstairs to look for her. He opened a couple of doors before he finally found her. She was in what seemed to be her room. She was hugging a stuffed teddy bear, crying. George walked over to her and knelt down in front of the bed. "Hermione." He whispered softly. She looked up at him and let out a sob. She rolled over so her back was to him. He sat on the bed and began to rub her back. "Why didn't you tell anyone?" He asked. He knew how she felt. Alone, like you had no one you could turn to.

"Because," she sobbed. "I-I did-didn't w-want to ups-upset anyone. Who am I, t-to c-come into some-someone's house and-and act li-like a cry ba-baby! You've all l-l-lost so-some-someone, I didn't want to-to make it worse!" She was sobbing uncontrollably now.

George couldn't help it as tears started to well up in his eyes. He continued to rub her back as he responded. He couldn't believe she felt that way, that the death of her parents would be a burden. "Hermione, in no way would you have made our suffering any worse, you know that. We would be there to support you. You shouldn't have held it in. Plus, part of me is telling me that that isn't the whole truth. Come on Hermione, you can tell me anything."

She waited for her sobbing to calm down before facing him. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "I didn't think I deserved to tell you. I'm not the only orphan in the world. Harry is one, and he doesn't cry. I know it's because it happened when he was a baby, but I feel like I kind of deserve it."

"What do you mean?"

"I erased their memories; I made them forget all about me, so why should I still have to right to keep them?"

"Because that's what they would want; for you to know they would always be your parents, even if they didn't know it."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Yeah.. sorry for not updating in forever, but school is out now and all I have to worry about is work. Woo! :) well, please enjoy and review, it's very much appreciated! I love to know what everyone thinks.**

**P.S: Thanks to ****Miss Magic 101**** for my first review!**

**Disclaimer: This should be applied to the whole story, okay? I do not, in any way, shape, form, anything!, own the Harry Potter series or anything you may recognize. I do this for my own, and others, enjoyment, I make no profit from this.**

George and Hermione stayed at Hermione's house for a while, just laying there. Hermione drifted off to sleep not too long ago, but George just sat there, thinking. He thought about what had just happened, what he witnessed. Never in his life would he think that Hermione Granger, of all people, could break down like that. She was always so strong, so confident, nothing anyone ever said or did could have broken her spirit, but maybe it was all an act. No one would have ever known that inside the brave, witty and independent woman was a little innocent girl, someone who wasn't immune to the deep, scary emotions people can feel.

He stroked her hair as she used his chest as a pillow. She didn't fall asleep like that, but ended up rolling onto him. He didn't mind. She made him think of Fred, and not the Fred everyone knew. The serious, intelligent, observing Fred and not the funny, care-free outgoing Fred, but he rarely showed that side of him. It was refreshing really, because when he thought of him like that, he allowed himself to laugh, because he wasn't reminding himself of how he and Fred used to laugh.

Fred always told him in these rare moments how much he respected Hermione. He also said it was too bad she didn't use her brilliance for more effective aspects of live, such as helping them with their pranks. But he also respected her for the way she carried herself. "The whole world around us could come crumbling down Georgie, and I would bet anything that she would just be standing on top of it all, nose stuck in a book, trying to fix it." George laughed when Fred had said that, because he couldn't help that that could very well happen soon, and it did.

George always figured that somewhere inside him, Fred fancied the little bookworm, though he never acted on it, since he knew Ron did as well. George suspected that's why he put her on their bucket list, because he wanted to impress her.

He sighed, looking over at the clock on her bedside table. Half past two in the morning. He pulled the blanket up around him and decided to drift off into his dreams, where he didn't have to worry about a thing, being ignorant to the world around him.

_"George, Georgie, hello, are you there?" a faint but familiar voice asked. George sat up, rubbing his eyes and took in his surroundings. He seemed to be in a clearing, a small lake off to his right, surrounded by lilac bushes. He looked around for the voice, and spotted a very familiar red-head sitting just to his left. His eyes widened in shock. "F-Fred? Is that you?" He asked timidly, unsure of what was happening._

_"Of course it is! Don't even recognize your own twin? Shame, I thought you'd be excited, but alas, tis not so." He joked, a smile on his face. _

_George couldn't believe it. His best friend, brother, twin, better half, was sitting right beside him! His whole face exploded into a grin, not wanting this to ever end, but then he realized... "Is this just a dream?" he asked sadly, gazing down at the ground._

_Fred nodded. "But why should that matter? Aren't dreams just meant to tell you something, or even retell the truth in a strange way?" It was a rhetorical question. Fred was slipping into his serious side._

_"So," Fred began, when George looked back at him. His eyes seemed sort of sad, as if what he was about to say would hurt him in more ways the one. "I see you're getting on with Granger rather well."_

_George shook his head, knowing what Fred was implying. He was right, Fred did fancy Granger, and it hurts him that he never got a chance with her. "Fred, nothing is going on, she was sad, and was going through something rough, I could tell and-"_

_"And suddenly there was someone who knew what you were going through." George sighed, even in a dream, they understood each other. He nodded. "Look, she's my friend, nothing more. I wouldn't do that to you Fred." Fred looked almost insulted. "Do what exactly? Hurt my feelings? I'm dead George, we both know it, bloody hell, I don't want to sound pessimistic, but what could I honestly do? Fate wasn't on my side, I wasn't the right twin." George, a whisper called._

_"What do you mean fate?" George, George, wake up, it called, slightly louder._

_Fred sighed and said something, but sadly George could not hear it. "Fred?" He asked. "Fred?" Again, and again until everything was sucked into blackness, including the one person he wished was there most desperately. _

"Fred?" He mumbled, waking up from a deep slumber.

"No George, it's me, Hermione." Then the image was shattered, into a thousand pieces never to be put together again.

He sat up looked around, slightly sad that he was no longer in the clearing. He wanted to know what Fred said, but the more he thought about it, the more he forgot about the dream. Then he looked at Hermione, and he almost forgot about the whole thing. She was wearing black jean shorts that were reasonably short and a white blouse with black flowers covering it in an intricate design. Her hair was pulled back into a French braid, the end hanging over her left shoulder. But after a couple of seconds, the whole conversation came rushing back to him. It should've been Fred waking up to see her like that, to notice every small beautiful detail about her. But it wasn't, and it made him angry, angry because he knew she could fix him, fix him until he was almost as good as new. What would Fred say? What would he think?

"George? Are you listening to me at all?" She asked, hands on her hips.

"Oh, sorry, I'm still waking up, what were you saying?" He got up and stretched while listening to her speak to him.

She smiled a bit and shook her head. "I was just thanking you for staying with me, I really needed the comfort. If you ever need me for anything, just let me know, and I'll be there for you." She looked thoughtful for a moment then added, "and thanks for not telling anyone about my parents."

"Don't worry about it; I'll let you tell everyone when you're ready. And the same offer goes to you, when you need me, just floo and I'll be here."

She smiled genuinely up at him, taking his breath away. She was stunning, and she wasn't even trying.

George coughed and gave Hermione a quick hug. "I suppose I should be off, mum will worry if she decides to check on me at the shop and I'm not there. I'll owl you later." She nodded and said goodbye, sitting down on her bed as she watched him leave, with a small smile on his face. She was happy to have finally told someone about her parents and who understands completely what she was going through. She knew everyone lost someone in the war, the Weasley's lost Fred. But her parents were her only blood related family, she felt like part of her died. She knew that was how George felt too, as a bond between twins is stronger than any other.

Maybe he could fix her. And maybe she could fix him.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hey everyone! so I know that this story might not seem like its going anywhere, but don't worry, it will. I just want to really just what George and Hermione are going through first, so that's way there isn't much dialogue. Please R&R, it means the world to me! Thanks :)**

George stumbled out of the fireplace in his flat, and just stood looking around for a moment. It was the first time he'd been back to the flat since the war, and there was a lot of work to be done, namely going through Fred's things. He would do that later though.

The flat was reasonably roughed up. The curtains on the living room window were scorched, there was a gaping hole in the couch, and most of the furniture and appliances were thrown all over the place, some almost completely destroyed. He and Fred had put as many spells as they could on the place to keep it safe while they were moving around, doing Potterwatch, but apparently they must have been weakened over time and Death Eaters decided to wreck the place.

George sighed and moved to the living room to look out the window. The view from 93 Diagon Ally was quite spectacular, and George used to spend most of his free time-admittedly, he didn't have a much- just standing, looking out at all the shoppers while he sipped his tea. Fred would join him most times, and they would talk, just talk. Never about the war. It was their time to go into their own little world and pretend that everything was and was going to be alright. They soon learned, however, that ignorance was not bliss, and they stopped looking out the window.

Now, standing here and looking out the same window where he shared so many talks about what their futures would look like, bright and happy, how the shop was going, staring Potterwatch, it all just seemed so pointless now. None of it mattered anymore, it was just memories. And the memories were like the many cups of tea they had; there one minute and gone the next, with only the few drops left at the bottom to remind you it was ever there.

George stood there for an hour, with tears running down his face. But he didn't care.

Hermione stood a few feet from the Burrow's property. She just looked for a couple of minutes before walking forward towards the Weasley's family home. She had so many memories here, both happy and sad. This was one of her three homes, and this was where her second family lived. As she walked towards he Burrow, she thought of what she was about to do, and how scared she was.

Talking with George gave her the courage she needed to tell the Weasley's what had happened to her parents. Although, she was going to tell them she only found out yesterday, since George told them she had a meeting with Kingsley. She didn't want them to be mad at her for not telling her sooner. Even if she explained why she hadn't, she doubted they'd be any less angry. So, she opted for a little white lie, because she just didn't have the energy to deal with angry Weasley's. It became annoying after a while if she were honest.

Before she knew it, she was at the front entrance to the house, and she decided to just walk right in. She knew it was rude, but every time she knocked Mrs. Weasley would scold her, saying she was family and was as welcome as anyone else who lived there. As it was around 9 in the morning, only Mrs. Weasley was up and about, fixing breakfast for everyone. Hermione smiled and walked into the kitchen and looked at the clock. Ginny and Ron were still sleeping, as was Charlie, while Mr. Weasley, Bill, Percy and George were at work.

"Hermione dear! How was your meeting with Kingsley? Are you any closer the finding your parents?" Mrs. Weasley asked kindly, not realizing how upset it made Hermione. Hermione just slowly made her way into the sitting room, and picked up a book to read while she waited for Ron and Ginny to wake up. She had decided she didn't want the whole family to be there, since she would probably choke and lie again. _Again_. She started to wonder what her life had become since the war. She used to be so honest, at least, when it wasn't putting her in danger. Now, this lie, it made her feel like a coward. She was disgusted with herself and wished she was honest from the start. She was a Gryffindor, she was not a coward. She stood up and was about to go wake Ginny and Ron up, when she saw them making their way down the stairs into the kitchen to eat. She took a deep breath and started to walk over as well when she realized something.

Harry wasn't here.

She couldn't very well tell them without him, he was her brother, in every sense but blood. But, as it seems, fate was pushing her to the truth because at that moment Harry flooed in. Hermione assumed he was joining them for breakfast as it looked like he just woke up. She decided she'd tell them after they ate, so they could enjoy their food.

Twenty minutes later, when everyone finished eating as much as they could, Hermione stood up and announced she had something to say.

"I've been talking to Kingsley about the search for my parents, and he told me the last time we talked he had some news." Which wasn't a lie, she did talk to him about them, and the last time she did, he told her they found them, dead.

She took a deep breath, as they all sat in silence, waiting for the news.

"They're dead. _Death eaters_." She whispered the last word, and with one look at their shocked faces, ran into the yard and dissaparated. To the very last place she'd ever think she'd look for comfort.

After repairing as much as he could in the flat, and throwing out the rest, George took an exhausted seat on a rather ugly looking arm chair. It was ugly from the few burn marks, and quite frankly the neon pink colour it was, but George wouldn't dare throwing it out. After all, it belonged to Fred.

Just as he sat down, he heard a faint pop downstairs, and thought that was rather odd, as the store was obviously closed. Fearing it was a Death Eater, George stood up, wand in hand and quietly sneaked down stairs, not making a sound (thanks to the silencing spell he put on his shoes, and jumping the one creaky stair at the bottom).

He let out a breath though, and lifted the spell when he spotted the once bushy, brown hair that belongs to none other than Hermione Granger.

"Granger?" George asked, a bit curious to why she was here. Then, he noticed her tears and ran over, bringing her into a hug. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked gently, but she didn't reply. "Did you tell my parents about...?" He didn't need to finish his sentence, because she nodded her head.

He decided to just let her cry on his shirt while he stroked her hair and rubbed her back gently. He didn't say anything, because he knew nothing would help. Eventually, tears started to form in his eyes, and gently started to fall, because this made him think of Fred and, well, thinking of Fred made him cry. They stood there for a while, just holding and comforting each other, until Hermione pulled away, wiping her eyes.

"Sorry for barging in on you like this, it's just..."

"I know, don't worry about it. So, would you like a cup of tea?"


End file.
